


Judda Stacey

by Gruul



Series: Original Stories I’ve Wrote [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Death, Other, Serial Killer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 09:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gruul/pseuds/Gruul
Summary: This story will and forever be abandoned. Unless someone would like to adopt it. It's about a guy who found out about a serial Killer Juda Stacey, if that's her true name, who kills and preys on people for the fun of it. What made her start? Is there a goal? Well, You'll never know.





	Judda Stacey

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own everything to this story.

**INTERVIEW WITH JUDDA STACEY BUCKLER AKA “STACY-X” by Ethan Blacker, 2015 May, 17th seven days before execution for the Colorado Newspaper SIDE A/SIDE B (see notes if needing more information.) **

Have you ever looked at someone and thought they looked too innocent to be a killer? Big blue eyes that stare into your soul trusting you with everything they have to keep them from harm. When I first met Judda Stacey Buckler, I didn’t think she could have killed fifty-two people in a matter of two years. Her hair was long and tangled with red and blue mixed together. Her eyes screamed innocent, while the rest of her body was wrapped in a straight jacket that was filthy from her struggles of trying to get out, rolling around on the ground of her cell. The only reason I was visiting the state jail was to get the story of the month from the source herself. 

Judda Buckler was twenty-seven going on twenty-eight in June of the next year, she had started killing at the age of twenty-three, unknown to the police until now, her first victim was her father Harry Buckler, a retired veteran of world war two, age sixty-three when he died. She told me that when she killed her father, she didn’t remember doing it, all she said on the event was they had an argument about a relationship she was currently in at the time with her ex-college girlfriend Katie Gutter. Harry wasn’t wanting to admit his daughter was gay, he was Christian raised, coming from a religious background I could understand the man, my own father was like that when I admitted I was gay, I told Judda Buckler this and she smiled sadly; 

“Yeah I wasn’t expecting him to be alright with it at first; I researched coming out stories so when I did I could be more comfortable with how my parents would react, I had thought maybe in a few weeks, or months, a year. I thought I would have been okay with me being gay, but it wasn’t what happened. What happened next I’ll never forget it.” She took a breath, snuggling into the straightjacket more, like a child would with a stuffed animal. I waited, taking a sip of my water. 

“My father wasn’t weak, even for a sixty-two retired veteran he still worked out, occasionally go out with his other friends and go to an underground fighting club to keep fit, so when he slammed his fists into the wall leaving a dent, I panicked. I got my bag and went to leave but my father was in front of me before I could move to the door, he slapped me, pushing me into the door, and started to choke me. I don’t remember what happened next, it was all but a black blur, I woke up at home covered in blood. I received a phone call later that day when my mother went home after spending a week in the hot springs with her group of friends in hysterics saying the house was covered in blood, my father was nowhere to be found. Only his ring finger, which was hooked in a fishing hook dangling from a fishing line hanging from the living room chandelier” Tears fell from her eyes, I grabbed a Kleenex and dabbed her eyes, the cop guarding her, shook their head; 

“No personal contact with the prisoner or you’ll have to leave.” I nodded my understanding, huffing with annoyance, I loved cops, I loved my job, but if someone is crying I have to comfort them, I feel like it’s my own pain. Judda cleared her throat telling the officer if she could get a glass of water, the officer told another cop who left a few seconds later, Judda was being helped with drinking some water. 

“After I woke up with the blood all over me I went and got a black trash bag, throwing away anything that had blood on it, I didn’t want to go to jail you know? I was currently in college, working for a pizza company at night to pay the bills, I was dating the love of my life, it was like my life was starting to come together only for it to fall apart. I took the bedding, clothes, and other random things that had blood on it to the local garbage dump to make sure that it would be thrown away, not thinking it would come back to me later in life, even if I still don’t understand how it happened.” The garbage bag never went to the dump, it looked to suspicious for a random girl at the dump taking her trash instead of waiting for it to be picked up. The manager kept the bag in a compartment to report it to the police only to be forgotten for four years, but all the DNA was still there. 

“Living with the fact I killed my own father haunted me for days, weeks, it still does knowing I’ll never know how I killed him or where his body is. I’ve tried to ask _ her  _ but she denies ever killing him or anyone else. I know she’s killed the fifty-two, I’ve only killed one man, his name was Scott Lumbers he was in my college math class, and he tried to rape me last year, so in my defense I killed him by kicking him in the head while he was distracted.” I jot down the name, even if I have it recording, coming to the conclusion that after I do this interview I’m going to be doing a lot of research to make sure my facts are straight. 

“What about  _ Her _ ? When did Stacy-X come into the picture of your life? When did you first notice her? Did you ever go to the doctor to see about treatment? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.” I cross my fingers underneath the table where she can’t see them, hoping, praying that she liked me enough to give me an exclusive that no one else had the pleasure of having. I hide my smirk when she nodded, a glazed expression when she asked for another drink of water. I waited a minute, tweaking with the recorder, taking the notice that I needed to turn the tape because it was already full on the first side. I only brought one tape with me, thinking that I wouldn’t need two, or three but only one for the questions I had written down that only needed a selective few answers, but it seemed I was wrong, it looked like I would have to write down the rest if need be. 

“Stacy-X came to me a year before I killed my father, at first it was just me, you know? Just me inside my own head. No voices, no little snippets of her voice coming to me in the middle of nowhere telling me to kill whoever made me mad, or if someone was rude or made me sad, I seemed to have “blackouts” for a moment or two before the said person was gone, nowhere to be seen, and I felt smug, confident for a few brief moments before the feeling was gone. It got worse as the year trudged on,” 


End file.
